Food Angst

At one of the communities on our recent IT Training bush trip, we found ourselves with nothing to do for the day. Listless, we got ourselves excited about the idea of going "out for lunch", for the first time since we'd got out bush. Drove 100ks down the road to a nearby roadhouse.

I was served the worst chicken burger I've ever tried to eat. The fresh food truck was stuck in the mud over the SA border, so there was no salad, no cheese... I'm not entirely sure the "chicken" was chicken. Took two bites, chucked the rest out, drove 100 ks back to base, wishing we'd just opted for baked beans on toast in the home ec classroom we'd camped in for the week.

It was inconvenient and disappointing. But what about the people who live on remote communities permanently and deal with this sort of food insecurity?

When the Howard Coalition government introduced the NT Intervention in 2007, supposedly aimed at tackling child abuse and neglect on Aboriginal communities (cos that's the only place it's a problem, right?), half of Aboriginal welfare recipients' income was "quarantined" onto a "Basics Card", which could only be used in certain shops on food and other essentials. (see http://www.greenleft.org.au/node/46894 for more information about the Basics Card, which continues- indeed is being expanded- under Labor.)

This was meant to ensure children were fed. But what good is the Basics Card when there is no healthy food in the shop? When a Mars Bar costs $1.50 and an apple costs $2?

When I first wrote this reflection, on my Facebook page, I wrote "Rather than the Basics Card, why doesn't the government invest in community farms and training to grow fresh food out here?"

But sometimes it's not that simple. In fact, many communities have had government-funded orchards and market gardens established, and teams of people who spend time on the community teaching people how to garden.

In most instances, the orchards are now abandoned, died, or gone wild. Or have a dedicated whitefella tending them.

This isn't an indictment on the ability of Aboriginal people to learn new skills, or their commitment to practise healthy lifestyles. It is, rather, another example of the failed approaches government has taken to community "development", "bridging the gap", and all the other catchphrases.

Many, many well-meaning non-Indigenous people are living on communities, making reasonable money, doing their best to improve living standards etc. So many of them get burnt out and leave. We need a radical re-think of the entire concept of "training on Aboriginal communities". We need to re-think the criteria used to when inviting people to work on communities.

"Do you speak the language of the people you'll be working with?"; "Do you understand and respect their legal, social, political system? Are you willing to work within it?"; "Do you have any experience working with communities experiencing inter-generational trauma?" These are questions I have never been asked, in all my years working on communities.

Finally, when all these millions of dollars are spent on "training" and "development" aimed at Aboriginal people, and they don't work (because of how they're set up, what they aim to deliver, the language they deliver in, etc...) what message is being sent to Aboriginal communities? What effect do all these failed programs have on people's confidence, receptiveness, dignity and sense of collective wellbeing? What conclusions do people draw?

We need to radically rethink approaches to working with Aboriginal communities before Aboriginal people give up entirely on the invaders' system of law, health, education etc, and lose all hope in ever understanding it or mastering it so they can take the power back.